


Flufftember #12

by adrianna_m_scovill



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Making Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:21:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26538754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: Flufftember prompts:Barson - making up, food, cuddling
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Olivia Benson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 89
Collections: Flufftember 2020





	Flufftember #12

_Running 45 late._

She was grateful for the text even if it was the bare minimum effort he could’ve made to keep her from worrying, and she was relieved when she finally heard his key in the lock. She didn’t look up when he walked into the apartment, and he didn’t say anything. She was on the sofa, leaned forward with her elbows on her knees to survey the files spread out on the coffee table, but she’d barely been registering the information for the last hour. 

After slipping quietly from bed that morning without the usual kiss, he’d gotten ready quickly and taken his coffee to go. Aside from the text letting her know he’d be late, she hadn’t heard from him all day. She’d known he had an earlier morning than her, and their jobs were often hectic enough that they didn’t have time to talk at all during the day. 

If he hadn’t slept with his back to her for the first time in the entire course of their relationship, she wouldn’t have thought twice about the silence.

She heard the rustle of a bag and suddenly registered the scent of takeout, and she felt a fresh stab of guilt. With the fact that Noah was away at a sleepover combined with her preoccupation about last night’s fight, she’d completely forgotten that it was her night to cook dinner. 

She knew the fight was mostly her fault; when she’d found out about the security breach—and that he hadn’t told her, because he hadn’t wanted her to worry—her fear had taken over. She’d lost too many people and she wasn’t at all confident that she could survive something happening to Barba. She’d said some harsh things, calling him selfish and irresponsible and reckless.

By the time she’d crawled into bed beside him, she’d been ready to apologize and talk through why she’d reacted so emotionally, but he’d rolled away from her. 

The only thing that had kept her from crying herself to sleep was the knowledge that he would hear—he would know, and he wouldn’t be able to ignore her tears no matter how quiet she was or how angry he was. She didn’t want him rolling over to comfort her out of guilt or pity. 

Now, it felt like a gulf had opened up between them, and that terrified her. 

He passed the sofa on his way to the bedroom. She watched him go. His name was on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it back. Yes, she was still angry. She was still afraid for his safety. But she was also hurt. She might owe him an apology, but she wasn’t going to grovel for his attention and forgiveness. 

She blinked back her tears, refusing to let them flow, and reached out to close the folders and slide them together into a stack. She dropped her glasses on top and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Did you eat?”

She looked up, surprised by the sound of his voice. He was in the bedroom doorway. He’d changed into sweats and a t-shirt. “No,” she said. Before she could think of anything else to say, he walked past the couch again, headed toward the kitchen. She heard the rustle of the bag, and then he was back in the living room, walking around the coffee table to sit on the sofa beside her.

He pulled cartons out of the bag, setting them on the table along with napkins and utensils, before dropping the empty bag onto the floor. “I got beef broccoli and sweet and sour pork. You can have whichever,” he said quietly as he unfolded a napkin. 

“Either’s fine,” she answered. After a moment, they both reached for the sweet and sour pork, their hands brushing in midair before they drew back. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, “you go ahead.”

“No, it’s fine. You can have it.” She grabbed the beef broccoli before he could object. “Thanks for getting dinner, I totally spaced that it was my night.” She paused. “Although I guess you knew I would.”

“I know you don’t remember to eat when you’re upset.” He opened his carton and poked his chopsticks inside for a few seconds. Finally, he replaced the container on the table and turned toward her, drawing the leg closest to her partway up onto the sofa. “I’m sorry, Liv.”

She sighed and reached out to set her food beside his. “It was my fault, I overreacted.”

“I’m not talking about the fight. With our jobs it’s par for the course to worry and stress. I mean for shutting you out. We were both angry, and I thought a little space would be good, but…” He paused, searching her eyes. “It didn’t feel good,” he said quietly. 

“No. It didn’t,” she answered, her eyes finally filling with the tears she’d worked so hard to keep at bay. His expression twisted at the sight of her tears, but before he could say anything else she grabbed his head and pulled him forward to rest her forehead against his. She closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” she whispered.

He slipped a hand into her hair, his fingers curling around her nape to hold her close. “I know you were scared, but every precaution’s in place—”

“I don’t just mean the threats,” she said. “Rafael, we were in the same bed but you might as well have been miles away.”

“I promise it’ll never happen again. No matter what, it’s you and me, Liv. I love you, always.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered, drawing back enough to look at him. His eyes were shining with unshed tears. His expression was soft, full of love and regret, and she loved him so much that it made her chest ache. She let out a shuddery breath. “I’m sorry, too. Thank you for texting earlier.”

He turned and picked up his food. “Here, you can have the pork,” he said, handing it to her before grabbing the other container. 

“We can share.” She leaned toward him and he turned his head automatically to meet her kiss. They let their lips linger for long moments before drawing back to smile at each other. They both had enough self-awareness to recognize their long histories of sabotaging relationships, but they also knew that this love, started in a tried and true friendship and partnership, was different. They would do whatever it took to make this work, together. 

“Love you,” he murmured, and she leaned in for another quick kiss before drawing her legs up and snuggling against his side. 

She picked up a piece of pork and held it toward his mouth. “Always,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder.


End file.
